Intricacies
by xoxoconsu
Summary: Conglomeration of one-shots. Mostly Hal/Alex centric. Some will be set during s5, most will be set after s5.
1. Chapter 1

A scrap of skin branded by a misspelled tattoo, the delicate and flimsy material shifting in the slight breeze coming from the open window as a white-haired, red-eyed man clad in a suit and a bright yellow tie stretches it out on a square piece of glass. He places the glass with the skin stretched taut upon it into a frame of dark wood, making sure the glass fits the picture frame before closing it and hanging it up on a wall, alongside a gold band hanging on a chain and a picture of a dark-haired woman holding a baby while three other children, two toddler boys and a school-age girl, sit beside her. Behind them all sits a heavy-set man, smiling just as happily as the rest of his family. The white-haired man turns to look at the family in the picture, and their smiles twist into grimaces of pain as blood flows from suddenly appearing wounds. Their silent screams are louder than anything. Four letters. Two syllables. Over and over and over again. Four letters. Alex. Two syllables. Alex. Over and over and over again. Alex. Alex. Alex Alex Alex Alex.

The white-haired man in the suit and vibrant tie turns from his admiration of his spoils of a war he won before it had even started. A sneer twists his lips as they mockingly form the same four letters. Alex. Alex. Alex. Alex.

Silent screams. Alex. Terrible taunts. Alex. Bleeding. Alex. Red eyes. Alex. Pain. Alex. Cruel laughter. Alex. Alex.

_Alex!_

Alex wakes up with a start, a strangled gasp cutting off the scream that had been tearing itself from her throat. She sits up, gasping for breath, heart thrumming like a hummingbird's wings. Her eyes are wide as she looks around the room in a daze, expecting to see Hatch or the picture frame around her brother's tattoo or even the photograph whose inhabitants cried out to her as they bled.

She jumps when she feels a hand on her shoulder, one arm uncurling itself from around her torso to strike out. Her hand is caught at the wrist in a gentle grip, and she waits, her breath tremulous, as she hears someone fumbling to turn the light on. Alex winces as the light comes on in a blinding flash, dimming slowly as her eyes become used to the sudden brightness. She looks up, eyes watery and full of a fear she doesn't quite understand.

"Alex? Alex, it's only me. Calm down, please." The hand that had been gripping her wrist lets go, stroking her cheek softly instead. His other hand is raised so that he can cup her face in both hands, gently forcing her to look properly at him. "Are you all right, Alex?"

Still lost in the confusing haze of her dream, Alex screams. Hal is quick to silence her, one hand covering her mouth as gently as possible while the other takes hold of her wrists before she can try to hit him. He murmurs nonsensical words of comfort as she quiets down, doing his best to hide the concern making his heart pound. Once Alex is quiet again, he clears his throat awkwardly and moves away, crouching beside Alex's bed with his hands in his lap.

"Alex, please. It's only me." Hal is frowning, all pursed lips and furrowed brow, very obviously worried. In her sleep-addled state, Alex can't help but to notice how much like a puppy her friend can sometimes be. Her lips twist into a small and slightly dazed smile at the sudden realisation, but that smile quickly fades as she catches sight of a picture frame hanging on the wall behind Hal. She sees the frame and sees the torn piece of skin branded by a tattoo. She sees the frame and sees the portrait in which the family screams in agony. She sees red eyes and white hair and a black suit and a sunshine-yellow tie. Alex can't breathe. The red eyes are looming ever-closer and she can't breathe. They're too close. Too close.

"Alex!"

They're nowhere. There's only Hal. Hal Hal Hal. Alex's tense body slumps in relief, falling forward onto Hal, who wraps his arms around her in a protective embrace. His hands wrap around her waist, caressing her lower back gently as he murmurs comfortingly.

"H–Hal..?" It's the first time Alex has spoken since she woke up, but her voice is hoarse from screaming. Hal stiffens slightly, pulling away from Alex just enough that he can look at her without letting her go entirely. Her eyes widen, shining with tears that threaten to trickle down her flushed cheeks. "Hal. Oh god, Hal. Don't let me go. Please."

"I won't, I won't. I promise I won't." Hal moves, sitting next to Alex on the bed. His arms wrap around her trembling form again, and he can feel the sadness stabbing at his heart when he feels her clutching at him, clinging to him as tightly as she can. With one arm wrapped around her waist and the other around her shoulders, he strokes her hair softly, whispering words of comfort.

Alex has her head resting on Hal's shoulder, biting her lip to keep the tears at bay. She shifts back, not quite out of their embrace, before speaking quietly, a shy and hesitant question slipping, unbidden, past her lips. "Will you stay with me?"

Hal nods and gets to his feet, giving her space to lie down again. She leaves a space beside her, looking up at him expectantly. He lies down next to her, pulling the covers over them and taking Alex's hand. He does nothing more than watch her silently, his presence comforting her more than she had expected.

Hal watches her and Alex watches back, but soon enough she's blinking slowly. Her breathing evens out, her eyes fall shut, and a tiny smile makes its way to her lips. Hal smiles to himself, allowing the cloud of sleep to envelop him.

* * *

Tom finds them in the morning, having looked for Hal everywhere else in the house. He smiles softly at the pair who lie so entwined on the bed that it's difficult to tell where one ends and the other begins. Tom shuts the door carefully, walking back downstairs as silently as he can manage, fixing his tie as he walks out the front door.

"I s'pose he can stay home from work today."


	2. Chapter 2

Alex had always found Hal to be rather mysterious. His moments of sharing his past were few and far between, though he would, on occasion, admit that the reason for his unwillingness to talk about his past was shame. He was ashamed of what he had done. Other than that, Hal could be aloof and distant at times, or cheerful and insistent that the trio should spend the day together. These times of openness and determination to be with his friends were as rare as his moments of weakness when he actually would explain some bit of his backstory to Tom or Alex.

Hal was an enigma to Alex. He would be affectionate toward Alex one minute, only to brusquely push her away the next. It really was very frustrating - irritating, vexing - for Alex. She had learned to be patient after years of looking after her brothers, and knew to apply that hard-earned patience to her situation with Hal, but her patience levels were quickly being depleted.

Alex was growing rather frustrated with her housemate, as he had taken to avoiding her as of late, which meant him practically running out of the room as soon as she entered or as soon as he deemed it polite to exit. In these occurrences, he'd remain in the room during a brief and incredibly uncomfortable silence before hastily departing with a nonsense excuse tossed over his shoulder. Alex was sure that if he had the ability to rentaghost, he would've done so in a split second. Unfortunately for Hal, there were only so many times Alex would be willing to let him go, and he would soon find that Alex wasn't planning on letting him walk away for much longer.

Alex strode into Hal's room, her usually warm eyes glinting with cold determination. Hal glanced up from the book he was reading; his eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he schooled his expression into one of calm indifference. He placed a bookmark precisely in the centre of the page, and then snapped it shut. Hal set the book down on the small table next to his armchair, got to his feet, and walked over to Alex in an obvious attempt to get out of his room and a potentially awkward situation.

"If you'll excuse me, Alex-"

"No." Hal looked surprised and somewhat confused at Alex's response. She, on the other hand, crossed her arms over her chest and moved to stand in front of the door. "I have to talk to you, Hal. I'm not letting you give me some bullshit excuse to scurry out of here this time."

"Alex, please, don't be ridiculous. I just need to go... somewhere." Hal frowned at her, but Alex refused to let him leave, no matter how he tried to walk around her.

Alex glared at Hal. "Me, ridiculous? I'm not the one who practically runs away everytime you walk into a room! I'm not the one avoiding and ignoring you one minute and being confusingly affectionate the next! So I'm terribly sorry if you think I'm being childish or ridiculous or whatever, but I am _not_ letting you walk away now."

"I- I'm afraid I don't quite understand what you mean." Hal took a step back, his expression blank, but stained with a tinge of confusion and impatience evident in his slightly furrowed brow and the thin line formed by his lips as they pressed together.

"Like hell you don't!" He seemed taken aback at her outburst. _Good_, she thought, still glaring furiously at the man standing before her. "I am sick and tired of putting up with this stupid little act. You've been avoiding me like the plague ever since I got back from Scotland. So you know what I think? I think you should make up your bloody mind! Either stick with the distant act or drop it, but don't fluctuate between the two. I am _so_ done with all this confusion."

While Alex ranted, Hal just stared at her with widened eyes full of a growing awareness. His lips parted as if he was about to speak (Alex wouldn't admit that she'd leaned forward expectantly, waiting for his reply), but he closed his mouth with a frown. Seeing this, Alex let out a frustrated groan and turned to leave. Before she could so much as take a step past the threshold, Hal had grabbed her wrist and spun her around to face him before she could protest or tell him to let go. He stepped forward until Alex's back was pressed against the wall. Only then did he release her wrist, but it was merely to place his hands against the wall, on either side of her head. Hal sighed.

"Hal..."

"No, Alex. You had your turn to speak. Now you have to listen to me. Please, Alex. Just listen." He waited for her reluctant nod, then shot her a hesitant, weary smile (which she couldn't return). "Five hundred years, Alex. Five centuries of being an Old One, of being Lord Harry,of an interminable cycle full of blood lust and death. Any woman who got close to me was either a mean or a possible recruit into our army of millions. We ruled the world from the shadows. Soon after being turned, I forgot all about the affection all my "mothers" had given me as I grew up. I knew no love in the last five hundred years. Until I met Leo, that is. He and Pearl were the closest thing to a family I could remember having. Then I lost them, but I gained new acquaintances and eventual friends in Annie and Tom.

"And then there was you. Like I said, any women I met during these last five hundred years were nothing more than cattle in my mind. But you... you were somehow different, Alex. I couldn't understand how, but you were. I couldn't get you out of my mind. I still don't understand why you're so different. Why you? I suppose that's part of the reason I've been avoiding you lately. It was exhausting, to tell you the truth. But I was convinced that I had to, since your two week-long absence gave me time enough to think. Too much time, perhaps. I convinced myself that I should avoid you, that - even now, after everythimh has changed so much - I was too _dark_ for you. You, Alex Millar, are a brilliant, amazing individual. And you deserve someone who can match that brilliance, not someone who will only dim it. At a risk of sounding a tad cliché, I must confess that I sometimes find myself comparing you to a celestial being, a star, for you shine so very brightly. It took almost every ounce of my self-control not to grin each and every time I saw you.

"I know that I've upset you greatly, I understand that you're angry, and I know I'm to blame for it. But I will beg for your forgiveness if necessary. I will fall on my knees if you tell me to, without any regard for my dignity. I'll do whatever it takes to earn your forgiveness, Alex. Please, Alex, please. I never meant to hurt you so."

Just as Hal had been absolutely silent while Alex ranted, so did she keep her opinions to herself as he explained to her in his usual long-winded manner. Their gazes had met as he spoke, and she was afraid to look away from him, for fear of shattering the somewhat awed silnce that had formed once Hal had finished his explanation.

"You'd do anything?" Alex asked, eyes glimmering with unshed tears. When Hal nodded, she continued. "Kiss me, then."

Not one to disregard a request from Alex, Hal leaned closer and closer until their faces were no more than an inch apart. His gaze was still locked onto hers, though his eyes flickered to her lips as he leaned closer to her. He pressed his lips to hers softly, hesitantly, his arms sliding off of the wall and wrapping around her waist. Alex's arms twined around his shoulders, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, both revelling in the warmth coming from the other. Lips dancing, clashing, leaving the pair gasping for breath, lips parted, as they pulled away from each other. Alex, her cheeks flushed, smiled almost shyly at Hal. Hal returned the smile, pressing his lips to hers again in a chaste kiss from which he pulled back, grinning widely. Alex's head dropped onto Hal's shoulder, so he could almost see the tip of her reddened ear if he looked down at her. Hal kissed the top of her head, his smile softening.

Feeling Hal's lips softly touching her head, Alex pulled away from him, still smiling. She took a deep breath, uttering three words that made Hal grin as widely as she had ever seen. He tugged her to him again, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, even dotting a kiss on her nose, before he pulled her flush against him and kissed her with all the happiness and relief that he could muster.

"I forgive you."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own Being Human or any of the characters related to the show. **

* * *

There are several things Alex Millar isn't, clumsy being one of them. After five years of living with three boys and one man-child, she had to learn to nimbly avoid obstacles in her way. The five of them (her included) had a tendency to leave messes all over the house, after all.

Besides her lack of clumsiness, Alex is rarely ever (truly) angry. Upset, sure. Frustrated, yes. But her temper rarely, if ever, gets the best of her. Alex has a plenitude of methods to rid herself of anger, or at the very least to help her forget its existence. It's only to be expected, after all, that after five years she'd be able to ignore her anger or shove it away to be dealt with at a later time.

How Alex had come to be standing in the kitchen in the middle of the night, caught in the midst of a field of sparkling shards of glass, well, that's to do with both those things that Alex Millar usually isn't. She was in the kitchen because she couldn't sleep. She couldn't sleep because, a few hours before, she had fought with Hal. Since both tended to be quite stubborn when they wanted to be, they were constantly clashing for some reason or another.

Being in the kitchen in the middle of the night, however, is nothing new. Ever since she had become a ghost, Alex had been unable to sleep, and therefore had nothing better to do all night than wander around the house or watch TV while she waited for Hal and Tom to wake up. Even before that, in her own house, Alex would often wander to the kitchen on sleepless nights, or after she had fought with her dad or one of her brothers. Before her mum had left, Alex would sometimes wake up in the middle of the night and notice that the kitchen light was on. She'd slip out of bed as quietly as she could and tiptoe over to the kitchen, making as little noise as she possibly could. Once there, Alex would find her mum cradling a cup of tea or a glass of water. She'd sit with her, both silent and thoughtful, until either Alex or her weary mum would get up, hug the other, and both would go back to bed. Alex soon became accustomed to this silent habit. Whenever she fought with a friend at school or with one of her brothers, she knew she could go to the kitchen and, sooner or later, her mum would be there with her. At the time, however, Alex wasn't fully aware that her mum's presence in the kitchen wasn't only because she felt her teenage daughter needed her. And now the situation was much the same, save for the fact that now Alex had no one to sit silently with her in the kitchen. She hadn't had anyone to sit with her for five years. None of her brothers ever woke up in the middle of the night, nor did her dad. After her mum's departure from their lives, Alex had begun to prefer being on her own with her thoughts on nights when she couldn't sleep. The habit of tiptoeing to the kitchen, though, had never been broken.

A single noise. The scraping of a chair against the tiled floor of the kitchen. A noise caused by her bare feet hitting the leg of a chair that had been misplaced during the fight she had had with Hal. That's all that it takes for the glass Alex holds in her hands to slip out of her grip and tumble to the ground. She gasps as it falls, a tiny sound made louder by the sheer silence that echoed throughout the house. Then comes the inevitable yet still startling sound of delicate glass striking unyielding linoleum, smashing into diminutive pieces and scattering all over the kitchen floor.

Alex is trapped. Not just because she's stuck in the midst of the fragments of glass that reflected the moonlight coming from the window, shining like tiny little stars sprinkled throughout the kitchen, but also because her stubborn nature won't let her call for help. No, she'd much rather risk wounding her feet than be forced to wake up one or both of her housemates. She takes a deep breath, her mind assessing and reassessing the situation, looking for the least dangerous way out of the field of glass shards.

The chair? Too far away to reach, she could lean over too far and fall onto the shattered glass around her. There's nothing within reach that she can use to get out of her current predicament, and she still stubbornly refuses to call out for help. She wouldn't wake up Tom, since she knows the poor lad needs as much sleep as he can. He's been having trouble sleeping, despite the great amounts of work he sometimes did. She knows he'd only just fallen asleep before she crept downstairs. And she definitely won't call for Hal. Despite how stupid their fight was, she still doesn't want to talk to him. It _is_ partially his fault that Alex is in this troublesome situation, after all. If they hadn't fought, she wouldn't have felt the need to be in the kitchen, all alone with her thoughts, and she wouldn't have dropped the glass full of water she held in her hands.

Alex glances around the kitchen once again, noting a small patch of flooring that seemed to lack a greater quantity of glass not too far from her. A plan quickly begins to take form in her mind; a far-fetched plan that she knows has very little probability of succeeding. Walking as close to the glass as she dares, she leans forward forward forward and — promptly steps right onto a piece of glass. She cries out without meaning to, the sound escaping her as the shard of glass pierces the delicate skin of her foot. Alex falls forward, instinctively putting her hands out in front of her to break her fall. Alex's teeth sink into her lower lip to keep another cry from escaping, but does so just a second too late. Her lips part and the sound slips past them, just as a loud crash resounds throughout the kitchen.

Alex manages to sit up after a moment, holding up her hands, only to see them stained by blood from shallow cuts on their palms. A glance at her foot reveals a much worse situation. The ball of her foot has been sliced open by the piece of glass she had stepped on, a shard that remains inside the wound. The floor by her injured foot is already tinged red, the blood mixing with the water from the glass she had dropped and spreading slowly to the small puddles near it. Alex whimpers, the sound escaping her unnoticed. Taking a deep breath and letting it out in a resigned sigh, Alex yells as loudly as she can manage, effectively shattering the silence in the house much like the glass had shattered once it hit the ground.

"_Hal!_"

Not long after, footsteps are heard thundering down the stairs and rushing to the kitchen. Hal bursts through the door, stopping once he sees Alex sitting on the floor and bleeding, tears in her eyes. He glances around the kitchen quickly, immediately noticing the glass strewn about the floor. His eyes widen as he takes in the scene, yet he doesn't panic. He moves quickly, with an almost graceful confidence that Alex is somewhat – but not really – surprised to see. He turns on the light, glancing around once more to properly assess the scene in the artificial light.

"Alex, are you okay? What happened?" He is, thankfully, wearing shoes. Alex guesses that he had heard the sound of glass shattering and was about to head downstairs before she called him. She watches him step carefully into the kitchen, larger shards of glass cracking under his weight as he steps on them. Hal walks to her, kneeling to examine her scratched-up hands and bleeding foot. She hears him sigh softly, the sound almost inaudible even in the silence that cloaks the house in the darkness that the night provides, even under the full moon.

"I dropped a glass of water. I bumped into the chair and the noise startled me. Too out of it, I guess." Alex feigns nonchalance, even as she grimaces from the intensifying ache in her foot. Standing slowly, his arms wrapped around her slim waist, Hal helps her to her feet, one hand releasing her for the second it takes him to reach out, grab a chair, and slide it closer, all in one smooth movement. He eases her into the chair, pulling another chair over and setting her injured foot on it.

"All right. Don't move." He disappears into the living room, and she hears his softer footfalls going up the stairs. She doesn't bother with a snarky comment once he's gone, merely letting a puff of air escape her in the form of a muted sigh. Not long after, Hal returns, a large first aid kit in his hands. He sets it on the table and opens it, taking out the supplies needed to clean her wounds. As Alex watches, Hal gently wipes the blood on her hands off with a damp cloth. It takes him a few minutes to finish cleaning and dressing the wounds on her hands, after which he moves on to her foot. Through all this, Alex is absolutely silent, watching as Hal repeats the process on her injured foot.

"There. Are you better now, Alex?" Hal leans back as he finishes bandaging Alex's foot, crouching in front of her and looking up as he does. "Can you walk?" He asks this as he gets to his feet, now looking down at Alex. When she nods, he involuntarily mimics her, taking a step back to allow Alex to stand up.

Resting both hands on the chair in front of her and using it as support as she stands, Alex gets to her feet, carefully putting weight on her injured foot. Her knees buckle, but she doesn't allow herself to fall, using the chair once again, this time to stay standing. Alex takes a few careful steps, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she does. Fortunately for Alex, Hal is too busy sweeping up the shards of glass to notice her struggle as she walks across the kitchen; through the path he's just cleared. She crosses the living room, but her body decides that the pain is too much and finally collapses. Alex crumples to the ground with a quiet thud, her cry of surprise this time far quieter than her exclamation of pain only minutes prior. She can hear Hal rushing towards her, kneeling by her side as he cups her chin, gently forcing her to look at him. Lips pursed in a thoughtful frown, he shakes his head at her. "Alex… You could've just told me you couldn't walk."

"Didn't want to. You've already done enough, Hal. I didn't want to ask for your help again. Besides, you were already busy." Alex frowns right back at him, the quiet tone of her voice matching the silence slowly enveloping the house once again.

"Well, you still should have told me. It would've made things easier, Alex." With that, Hal wraps one arm around Alex's waist, the other sliding behind her knees as he stands up, this time with Alex in his arms. He heads towards the stairs, leaving Alex no time to protest. Despite this, her lips part to do just that, only to be interrupted by Hal shushing her.

Alex looks affronted, raising her eyebrows at him with an expression of surprise and annoyance. "Did you just shush me?"

"I did, and I'll do it again if you don't stop talking. We don't want to wake up Thomas, now do we?" Hal wears an expression of absolute smugness, confident in the fact that he is right, as he usually is. He strides as quietly as possible to Alex's room, stepping through the open door, pausing only to allow Alex to reach for the light switch and turn on the lights. He then places Alex onto her bed, a faint smile tugging at his lips. Hal, smirking teasingly, grabs the covers and throws them over Alex, leaving only her head visible.

His sly and wicked smirk widens as he leans closer to Alex, their faces an inch apart. He presses a kiss to her forehead before lowering his lips to her ear, whispering three soft words before backing away, shutting the light off as he exits the room. "Good night, Alex."


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own Being Human or any of the characters related to the show. **

* * *

How had they gotten here? Lying on the sun-warmed grass, staring up at an almost clear blue sky, struggling to identify shapes in the wispy cotton of the clouds above them. Oh, that's right. Tom and Alison had insisted Hal and Alex come along on their outing, and Alex had convinced an unsurprisingly reluctant Hal. So here they were, unsuccessfully making up shapes and figures to be found in the wispy, barely visible clouds that floated across the pale blue expanse of the sky.

Thicker, fuller clouds can be seen gathering on the horizon, but they show no signs of nearing the group, pulled along by wayward winds far above the reach of anything but airplanes and mountains.

"Look! That one looks a bit like a dog. Well, sorta." Tom's voice breaks into Hal's thoughts, and Hal glances over to see his friend pointing up at a thinning cluster of clouds that actually does look somewhat dog-like. Hal nods to show that he's seen it and turns his gaze back to the sky, doing his best to look for anything worth mentioning.

"Is it just me, or did it just get darker?" Once again, Hal's contemplation of the noonday sky is interrupted by another's voice, this time that of Alex. He hears Alison respond with a litany of reasons as to why the sky could've darkened, only for it to be interrupted by the first drops of rain beginning to fall on the group. Alex laughs and looks behind them as she gets to her feet, while Hal sits up so as to glance behind at the aggregation of darkening clouds looming over them and steadily creeping closer. He stands, watching Alex step away from them and spinning around in the quickly falling rain. He's silent for a moment, seeing Tom and Alison imitate Alex, performing a silly dance in the rain that soaks them as soon as it begins falling in earnest.

Then Hal, forgetting himself and his rules and his opinions on such actions, laughs. He stands and walks over to Alex with an almost hesitant smile. He bows to her, his upbringing coming into play along with all he learned in five hundred years of being Lord Harry. With his eyes raised to watch Alex, he straightens up and offers her his hand, an unspoken question hanging in the air between them. He can still hear Tom and Alison laughing as they goof off, but his eyes are fixed on Alex, waiting for her reaction.

Alex hesitates for a second before a smile tugs at her lips, placing her hand in Hal's and biting back a giggle as he tugs her closer. His free hand wraps around her waist, resting on the small of her back. Alex places the hand not entwined with Hal's on his shoulder, smiling demurely at the man in front of her. He leads her in a dance routine reminiscent of a modernised ballroom dance. Hal's humming quietly, a song he doubts Alex will recognise, and grins at her as he spins her away from him and tugs her back into his arms. He places his free hand at her right shoulder, one leg bending to lead Alex into a smooth dip. She leans back, supported by his hand on her shoulder, a breathless laugh escaping her. Hal pulls her back up, using a little more force than intended, resulting in her face being far closer to his than he expected. He chuckles, a quiet, low sound that escapes him as a result of her proximity. He glances at her lips, still parted as a laugh bubbles past them once more, then back at her gleaming eyes, half closed as she stares at him. Before she can try to pull back, Hal presses his lips to hers in a swift kiss, pulling her even closer as he does. The hand on her shoulder slides down, his arm wrapping around her waist, their hands remaining tangled with each other. His lips part ever so slightly, a quiet chuckle escaping into the kiss as their lips dance together, a more intimate routine than the one they had just performed. He wants to pull her closer, though that seems impossible, considering the lack of distance between their bodies at the moment. Hal leans back, breaking the kiss to take in Alex's flushed cheeks and slightly swollen lips. They both grin, and Hal presses their lips together again but for a mere moment, his forehead against hers as he laughs breathlessly.

They break apart as Tom clapping and Alison's muted giggles shatter the moment of silence. Hal looks around, taking a single step away from Alex but keeping his arm around her waist, their hands releasing each other and swinging at their sides. Hal feels his cheeks warm up, having forgotten about their little audience. He smiles sheepishly at Alex, not wanting to look at the smirking Tom and still-giggling Alison.

He notices Alex giving a little wave at them before she pulls him back to her, arms wrapping around his shoulders to hug him tightly. Alex presses a kiss to his cheek, her lips a whisper away from his ear as she murmurs an elated "Finally."


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own Being Human or any of the characters related to the show. **

* * *

Alex is drunk. As in, she's as horribly inebriated as Hal has ever seen her, despite her insistent claims that she's had nothing more than a few glasses of wine. She's either lying and she had the entire bottle of wine and maybe two more besides it, or she's lying and has had quite a few drinks besides the wine she tells him she had earlier. Either way, she's lying. Unfortunately, Hal doesn't exactly have any opportunities to dwell on it or Alex's reasons for having gotten so spectacularly drunk, as she would say, considering how _affectionate _Alex is when far past the point of being tipsy. She's laughing and clinging to him, her arms thrown around his shoulders as she presses sloppy kisses to the exposed skin of his neck.

Hal, of course, is doing his best to get Alex off of him, to no avail. Despite Hal's hundreds of years of experience with women, the fact remains that their relationship is still fairly new and Hal doesn't have much experience with actual relationships, and even less experience in regards to a relationship with a woman he actually cares for.

For five hundred years, he'd been nothing but a womaniser, a deceptively charming and incredibly deadly man who went after women not only for their physical appeal but also for the lure of their blood, blood that sang to him and assaulted his senses until he could drink his fill of it, only to find he could never be sated. Such blood was more exquisite than the finest wine; sweet nectar he could obtain as often as he wished, so long as he cleaned up afterwards.

Now, however, he knows Alex is different. So wonderfully different. She's stubborn and fierce and she has never been afraid to tell him off. She's bold and beautiful and – so _very_ drunk right now. Hal sighs. He turns to face his uncharacteristically affectionate significant other. His arm is around her waist, his thumb stroking her waist without him really noticing. Until he does, because he realises he's actually been stroking a sliver of Alex's bared skin for about ten minutes now, and yet he doesn't really want to stop. Her skin is soft, as soft as she is in his arms when they embrace. Hal glances down at the incriminating appendage that continues its gentle motions, then back up at Alex. Chancing a glance around, he notices Tom and Alison are nowhere to be seen.

Hal gets to his feet, his arm still around Alex, and takes a step forward, effectively backing her against the bar that occupies part of the space in the living room. He leans down, his face nearing hers so that the distance between their lips is almost nonexistent. Hal smirks, their lips brushing together as he speaks. "Alex…" His hand is on the small of her back, Alex's shirt riding up, leaving enough skin exposed so that half of his hand is pressed against bare skin. She shoots him a coy smile in return, leaning up to slant her lips over his so that he can almost taste the wine and alcohol on her breath as her hands toy with the hair at the nape of his neck. He tightens his grip on Alex almost involuntarily as a small sound escapes her, a mix between a contented sigh and a soft moan. He tugs her even closer to him, impossible as it seems, when the sound dances through the air to reach his ears.

Not long after he pulls her closer, Hal backs away, removing his hand from where it still rests on the small of her back. He presses a quick kiss to her lips, and then rests his forehead against hers, their somewhat heavy breathing mingling in the air between them. "Alex… No, we can't." He notices her pout and chuckles, a low sound that sends a thrill shooting up her spine. "Don't look at me like that. You know what I'm talking about."

Alex looks as if she's about to protest, but instead shoots him a baleful look as she nods and takes a small step back, running into the counter of the bar as she does. She waits for Hal to take a step back as well, their breathing still not quite regulated.

"Come on, Alex. Let's get you to bed, okay?" Before she can say a word, and he knows what she wants to say by the quirk of her eyebrow and the smirk twisting her lips, he presses his index finger to her lips, shaking his head. "Uh-uh. Not a word from you. You know exactly what I meant." Hal takes another step backwards, taking her hand and pulling her along as he heads towards the stairs. Hal leads Alex to her room, gently guiding her to her bed. They come to a stop just in front of it, and Alex presses her lips to his with a soft smile.

"Good night, Hal." A playful smirk teases her lips as she kisses him again, allowing her lips to linger close to his before she shoves him towards the door. She grins at him as she shuts the door, his somewhat stunned face the last thing she sees before the pale cream wood of the door comes between them.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Being Human or any of these characters.**

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Down to the basement. Into the little room. Hal falls to the floor when he sees Alex, hanging by the back of her jacket. His face is full of despair and probably even guilt. There are tubes coming out of her neck. Her face is smeared with blood, and the rest of her body coated with it. Not restrained. Merely hanging from the links of the fence like a stuffed animal prize at a fair. Her hands are covered in blood. She probably tried in vain to cover the wounds or rip out the tubes as the blood was drained from her body. Blood spatters the ground around her. The two containers are barely full of blood, and still more trickles into them. Even though she's dead, though her heart has stopped beating. Her eyes are open and her face is empty. Blank.

Hal's face is the opposite. His is full of regret and barely restrained anger. At himself. At Cutler. He shifts out of the grip of the men restraining him, unconsciously taking a single step towards the desecrated corpse. His expression is manic and pleading, brow furrowed and lips crooked into something that seems like a twisted mix between a smile and a grimace. He gets down in his knees, begging for Cutler to give up on his plan. Enough lives have been lost because of the plan. And because of him. He can't bear to think what might happen if Cutler isn't stopped. But threatening wouldn't be right. It's only right to plead, to be kind after the cruelty he put Cutler through years ago.

Cutler laughs in disbelief, unable to comprehend Hal's attitude. Then, he's violent. But Hal doesn't fight it. He allows Cutler to grab him and haul him to his feet, yelling into his face about how Hal stole his humanity, killed his wife, and corrupted his entire being.

An apology is insufficient. Being submissive doesn't work, so Hal threatens, sounding mildly passive even as he swears to kill Cutler to keep him from shattering the humans' world. He admits to his flaws. He fails to react in time to prevent being locked in the room that holds her corpse.

And then comes the clapping from the shadows. A sarcastic voice berating him and complaining about her crappy holiday and her death. Hal looks both relieved and anguished as Alex emerges from the shadows, scowling at him as she speaks. He tries to appease her, to tell her she's just in shock, but she tears her hands from his grasp, sneering and raging at him. A "frothing rage", to be precise. And she insults him, denying his attempts to help, calling him out for having drank her blood.

Hal and Alex argue, the latter mentioning Cutler's unexpectedly cliché villainy. Hal is despairing, but Alex doesn't care, for the moment far more fixated on the fact that she's dead and that Hal drank her blood. She's insulting and taunting him, bitterness coating her voice as she tells him that she's wanted to leave since he entered the room.

Still they argue, Hal disregarding her process at rentaghosting merely because she went in the wrong direction. He doesn't faze her, not even when he mocks her own little mocking laugh. Alex is stubborn and fierce, always returning to the fact that _he drank her blood_.

Once it sinks in, that she's dead and he's leaving and she has no idea what to do, her taunting comes to a standstill, as does she. Alex is confused and upset, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Hal holds his hand out to the ghost, inviting her to help him so that he can return the favour. She takes his hand, fingers linked, and they run.

She follows him silently as he struggles to make people exit the building. She watches as he takes the microphone from the DJ, yelling in despair until a haunting howl silences him. One word from him is all it takes to send people running, but they're trapped, pounding on the doors until a snarky ghost opens them for throngs of panicking people.

Hal faces the werewolf, glancing over his shoulder to glare at Cutler before recoiling away from the creature lunging at him.

—

In the end (or is it only the beginning?), there's a sarcastic "_This_ is Alex. _That_ drank my blood."


End file.
